Beat Me to Hell and Back
by St. Harridan
Summary: Chibs assaults Tig one night in the bar.


"Hey, Tig."

"Yeah?" And the next thing he knew, a burst of pain shot through his right jaw, Chibs standing over him with a wild glint in his eyes.

Tig held his face in a hand, trying to muster up a glare through squinting eyes. The bottle of beer that he had been nursing had slipped from his fingers upon the blow, and now it lay as broken shards of glass on the carpeted floor in a pool of dark liquid. "Fuck, Chibs, that was the last bottle! The hell's up with you?"

"Got my nuts on too tight." Chibs grinned, and then he was on Tig, an arm hooked around his throat, jerking him back as if wanting to break his bone. Tig couldn't help but cry out as Chibs slammed his head into the bar, certain that his skull was on the verge of splitting open upon the contact. Hot moisture ran down his face, and when he reached up to touch his forehead, he could see the blood on his fingers glistening in the dim light.

"Fucking hell, Chibs," Tig hissed, and ducked behind the bar as Chibs made another move, launching himself forward. He slammed into the edge of the counter with a sickening moan, ribs smacking hard against the ebony surface, and Tig almost felt bad for him. Tig made a move to reach out to him, to see whether he was okay, but decided against it when he straightened up sporting a face red with fury. Tig held up both his hands, swallowing a lump that had lodged itself in his throat. "Hold up, Chibs," he managed to say through the blood trickling out between his lips, sliding down his chin, "you don't look so good. You been drinking or something?"

"I feel great." Chibs smirked, coming around the corner. "Do _you_, Tig?" Tig tried to duck as Chibs' fist came rushing at him, but he was too slow, suffering a hard blow to the other side of his jaw, spitting out blood that tainted his tongue with a foul taste.

"You're drunk, Chibs." Tig grabbed hold of his vest, fingers clutching fistfuls of leather that stretched and twisted along with Chibs' frantic movements. Tig, being the more violent of the two, having bitten an ear of one of his victims just a while ago, couldn't really believe that he was in the receiving end of the line. Usually, he would be the one to give, not receive.

But then again, when it came to matters involving Chibs, everything was different. Everything was all too new to him, foreign and strange. Tig, though having been with Chibs for quite some time now, still wasn't so used to it. Maybe it was because he was more accustomed to being in control? He had never figured it out, but whenever Chibs was in control, like what he was doing now, the assaulter, Tig had to admit that he actually liked it.

Following that thought, Chibs caught him off guard, landing a strike in his stomach that caused him to double over, choking hard on his own spit and blood.

"What's the matter, Tig?" Chibs taunted, that annoying accent of his thick with a certain desire that somehow mirrored Tig's own. "Where's that fightin' spirit o' yours, eh? I wanna see it!" He grabbed a fistful of Tig's hair and pulled him up. "Don't you disappoint me, boy!" And then he slammed Tig's head into the counter again, laughing as Tig's skull met with the surface with a loud crack.

"Shit," Tig hissed under his breath, pushing himself up to dodge Chibs' incoming fist, blindly swinging one of his own. Chibs caught it easily in one hand, and with the other he shoved Tig back against the wall, Tig's spine hitting the bricks with a loud smack that left him breathless.

"Gotcha now, Tiggy." There was a note in Chibs' tone that made Tig growl in appreciation, a smirk creeping up his face as he pushed a knee between Chibs' legs. The breath caught in Chibs' throat at the gesture, Tig rubbing hard against his crotch, mocking him. With a growl, Chibs pinned Tig's hands to the sides of his head, raking his nails up his palms and intertwining their fingers as he crushed his lips with his own.

"Motherfucker," Tig muttered, breathless as Chibs pulled away slightly. Tig could smell Chibs' breath as it fell hot upon his face, heavy with alcohol and tobacco, interlaced with a light tinge of coffee.

"You can do that after I'm done with you." Chibs leaned forwards, licked a thin trail of blood from the side of Tig's mouth, pulling back with a puzzled look when he saw Tig's scowl. "What?"

Tig nearly wanted to spit at the man. "Next time, if you want to beat the shit out of me, _don't _go for the face, fucker!"


End file.
